


The Father the Son and the Exile

by SushiBurrito



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Fix-It, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-12
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-16 05:48:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29945421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SushiBurrito/pseuds/SushiBurrito
Summary: Luke Skywalker has vanished. Declared a missing person two years after the Battle for Endor, the unofficial bounty for Skywalker has become the largest ever recorded. Hundreds of hunters search the galaxy for his whereabouts; yet despite this, no one has managed to find Skywalker. No one, except a small Force sensitive child and his Mandalorian father.Or an alternate universe tale where Force visions warn Luke about Ben Solo several decades earlier but the consequences still force him to go on the run, this time directly into the path of Din Djarin.
Relationships: Din Djarin & Grogu | Baby Yoda & Luke Skywalker, Din Djarin/Luke Skywalker, Leia Organa/Han Solo, Luke Skywalker & Ben Solo
Comments: 17
Kudos: 90





	1. Now (10 ABY, Aboard Imperial Class 546 Light Cruiser)

**Author's Note:**

> This is an alternate universe story that roughly follows SW canon up to the birth of Ben Solo, then wildly diverts off course. It takes some themes of The Force Awakens and The Last Jedi (namely family, fame, isolation, self-sacrifice and some serious body horror) and sets them into play directly after Season 2 of The Mandalorian. Basically the premise is this: What if it was young Luke that was forced to go into exile and on the run from the Empire/Pre-First Order? How would that have changed Ben and Grogu's fates? The combination of being trapped in stay at home hell (in exile if you will) and some really fantastic storytelling in the Mandalorian has inspired this monster of a fic. I’ve also loved reading all the Din/Luke stories on AO3; this is such a sweet rare pair and I was really inspired. I have no Tumblr or other online presence to promote, but I have this entire story outlined and partially written, so I promise there will be frequent updates as I finish. 
> 
> Last note, I imagined this story with the Din/Luke pairing but this isn’t the main focus of the story and will only appear at the very end (It is a very long burn, pre-relationship kind of fic). If you’re not into shipping, I’d imagine you can still enjoy most of this story. I would say it is more of a character piece or an action/adventure story. If you like Luke angst or really wanted to see Luke fight to save his nephew, then this fic is for you.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “A Jedi?” Bo-Katan breathed. Din flinched and jerked his gaze to her. A Jedi….
> 
> Did this mean they were saved?

The Dark Troopers' constant slamming against the doors to the bridge was terrifying and relentless, like war drums sounding in the dead of night. As he stood there, waiting to die, Din Djarin counted the spaces between the hits silently. There was barely any pause, just two seconds of whirling gears--the sounds of Din's childhood nightmares--and loud metal slamming on metal. Over and over again. Everyone could hear the blast doors groan under the assault, creaking and breaking. There was no way out and not enough firepower in the galaxy to face the army outside. For the second time in Din's life, he was about to die listening to metal grinding on metal and monstrous inhuman whirling. 

He was so hyper-focused on the mechanized whirling outside that the sudden alert of the proximity alarm on the bridge jolted through him like a lightning bolt. He missed whatever Bo-Katan said and caught the end of Cara’s comment --”Great. We’re saved!”--as he came back to himself. 

“Incoming craft, identify yourself!” 

Nothing. Din watched silently as the ship came to rest in the dock. The others around him were equally confused, especially when the pounding outside suddenly ceased. 

“Why did they stop?” Fennec asked over her shoulder as she itched her way towards the doors. Din didn’t bother to reply; he was rooted to the ground, his weapons still raised. The moment seemed to last an eternity. 

Then it appeared.

The moments between when the cloaked figure appeared on the bridge monitors and the next when he started moving must have been infinitesimal. In a second, Din saw flashes of light spark across the black and white screen next to him, white fire dancing across dozens of dark figures. Din blinked and blinked again, adjusting his helmet. Nothing he did made the images on the screen make sense to him.

“A Jedi?” Bo-Katan breathed. Din flinched and jerked his gaze to her. A Jedi….

Did this mean they were saved?

Before he could even begin to process the thought, he saw Moff Gideon move, suddenly in possession of a weapon, suddenly moving--to Grogu!

Din moved on pure instinct, nearly as fast as the Jedi on the screen next to them. A scream lodged in his throat and stayed there as he launched himself into Gideon’s blasts. He felt them hit his armor like the Armorer’s hammer on her anvil; they rattled his bones and made him groan in pain.

The child--was he safe?! Din felt the others in the room aim at Gideon and for a brief second Din locked eyes with the man. He expected to see rage or hatred glaring back at him.

Instead, Gideon’s eyes were eerily blank. He seemed to observe the ring of women ready to blast him calmly, left, then right, as though he was impressed by their quick reactions. His head tilted in a way that struck Din as strange, unnatural--but then Gideon swiftly aimed his weapon to his chin.

Din flinched--but Cara ended the suicide attempt with a strong swing of her arm, and Gideon fell like a stone to the ground.

Grogu! Din turned to face the baby, but the child was utterly captivated. Not by the violence in front of him, but by the dark figure that continued to cut a path towards them on the monitors. The child seemed to have no comprehension of the close call he’d had and was already trying to climb onto the monitoring station in front of him. Din gave him a quick lift, and the child put his face next to the monitor, cooing softly. The baby raised his arms as though he wanted to reach through the screen and touch the dark shape launching troopers left and right like cheap training droids. He seemed to recognize the figure, at one point turning to look at Din with a happy smile on his face. His tiny hand kept stroking the monitor lovingly.

Of course. If this were a Jedi, Grogu would most likely recognize his own kind. Right? The thought caused a lump in Din’s throat. All he wanted to do in that moment was grab Grogu and hide. Instead, he made himself stand and watch the cloaked figure make quick work of the dark troopers in the most impressive show of force that Din had ever seen. The Jedi moved with deadly precision. The laser sword swung in wide arches that seemed less formal than the moves Din had seen Ahsoka use. It felt like mere moments before the Jedi moved from the elevator to the front of their blast doors, dropping droids left and right. Wait, did that last trooper just collapse from the inside?! Din blinked and again considered the possibility he had a concussion from his own dark trooper fight.

Then...it was over. The Jedi on the monitor straightened. It was now directly in front of the blast doors with its laser sword still lit beside him. For a moment, there was dead silence on the bridge, with nobody moving a muscle. Then Grogu turned to the door and whined. “Hmmrr?” He reached out his little arms and Din scooped him up. 

Din looked at the figure on the monitor for a moment and then opened his mouth to ask someone to open the doors--but then the Jedi moved first. It turned off its sword and returned it to its side. It stood there, facing the doors, its cloak bobbing up and down with its breaths. For a second, Din thought it was about to use its abilities to force the doors open.

Then the Jedi abruptly turned and stalked away, back up the hallway and towards the elevator.

“Huh.” Fennec blinked. 

“Where the hell is it going?” Cara yelped. 

“Baa!” Grogu struggled in Din’s arms as if trying to push away and follow the Jedi.

Din just twitched in his armor. What the kriff was happening right now.

“It’s going back into the elevator,” Koska reported. “Is...it leaving?” 

“Bababa!!” Grogu cried desperately. Din tightened his grip on the kid and whirled around to find Bo-Katan. 

“Was that a Jedi?” He asked.

There was a pause. “It fought like one. But I’ve never seen any Jedi wear all black.” Bo-Katan shrugged. 

Why in kriffing hell would Din care about what the Jedi was wearing?! Was this another damn Mandalorian cultural thing? Or maybe there was some Jedi dress code? If there was, it would be foolish to wear it, given the Jedi are supposed to be dead! Din wasted a precious second and struggled to recall if Ahsoka wore some distinctive clothing but honestly, the last thing he’d been thinking of when they met was the Togruta’s outfit. She’d had two laser swords instead of one; was that important? 

He didn’t have time for this. Oddly dressed or not, Din wasn’t about to let this Jedi slip away, not after all this time.

“Cara. Watch the kid.” Din glanced at the monitors to see where the Jedi was headed as he lowered Grogu to the ground.

“Wait, what? No!”

“You can’t leave!” 

Cara and Bo-Katan glowered at each other before Bo-Katan continued. “Just because it uses a lightsaber doesn’t mean it’s a Jedi. For all we know, it’s also after your foundling.”

“Then why didn’t they just come in and take him?” Cara shot back. But she turned to look at Din. “She has a point. Maybe it’s after something else on this ship.”

“Or it’s going to sabotage us.” Bo-Katan hissed. “It could be headed towards the engines.”

“It’s on level 3 now,” Koska reported quietly. “Moving towards the med bay.” 

“Well, that’s ...random. Is there anything else alive on this ship?” Cara leaned over and pushed a few buttons on the console. “I don’t think so but--ugh! The user interface on this thing is crap.”

Maybe the cloaked figure was after someone else and his appearance was just a lucky coincidence. “Do you have a visual feed from the med bay?” Din asked.

Koska turned towards Din--then a bunch of alarms thrilled loudly from the board in front of her. Din could hear her sigh even if it wasn’t vocalized through her helmet. “..Not anymore, we don’t.”

Damn.

“Right.” Cara stood straight and reached for her weapon. “I’m going with you--”

“Nobody is going anywhere!” Bo-Katan shouted.

“So we’re just going to wait politely and hope the creepy thing doesn’t kill us? Good plan.”

“We could sabotage its ship.” This came from Fennec, who, as always, sounded bored and done with all of them.

“Then it would be trapped on board with us!” Bo-Katan sounded very close to having a mental breakdown.

Fennec just shrugged. “Fett’s coming back.”

“ **ENOUGH!** ” Din shouted. To Cara he said, “I need you here with the kid.” To the others, “Stay. All of you. When Fett gets here, get the kid on his ship and get out. Don’t wait for me. It’s my task, my mission-” Din added when he saw Koska and Bo-Katan twitch. “This is what I have to do.”

“Mwah,” Grogu waived his little arms in protest. 

Cara glanced at the child and reached over to pick him up. “We’re not leaving you,” she insisted.

“I’m not leaving without the Darksaber,” Bo-Katan countered. “If this person gets ahold of it--”

“Nobody else cares about that stupid thing,” Cara muttered darkly.

“--And what exactly is your plan,” Bo-Katan continued, “are you just going to talk to it?”

Well… “Yes.” What else were they supposed to do? Hide like frightened children?! 

Cara rolled her eyes skyward. 

“If it tries anything, I’ll run, and we’ll get out of here.” Din promised. “I have no interest in dying. I just need to know why he’s here if he came for the kid or not.” He could see Cara’s concern for him reflected in her eyes. It was as deeply moving as the moment when she refused to leave him when he was severely injured on Narvarro. She was a good woman, a real friend. He really needed to stop dragging her into his problems. 

With one last look at Grogu, who was staring at Din with big wide eyes, he started towards the door, smashing the open button as he walked. Bo-Katan could follow after him if she cared so much about the Darksaber, but Din suspected she wouldn’t. Maybe she was hoping for the Jedi--the not Jedi?--to kill him first. It had its own sword, it probably wouldn’t care about another.

His heart hammered in his chest as he made his way past the shells of the dark troopers. This was a very stupid idea--suicidal perhaps--and yet. He had to know if this thing was related to the Jedi he was so desperate to find. 

He had to find out if this was the creature he was expected to leave Grogu with, if his mission meant he would be leaving the baby to live with a monster. 

* * *

The hallway just outside of the medical bay was dim and silent, and there was no sign of a struggle apart from the dark remains of a monitoring cam just outside the med bay door. Din got a good grip on his blaster, then took a deep breath and triggered the release. The door surprised him by opening quietly and without a struggle.

The medical bay looked untouched and so ordinary that it took Din a moment to locate the cloaked figure. It was in the right corner of the room, kneeling over two medium-sized tanks sitting side-by-side on two large hovercarts. The cloaked figure didn’t seem to register Din’s presence, but then, it was impossible to see its face. But it was humanoid, that was for sure. Smaller in person than it had appeared to be on the monitors. There was no sign of the green laser sword in the cloaked figure’s hands, only one of which wore a black glove. Instead, it looked like the figure was holding a long thin object--too thin to be a normal weapon. It looked like an oversized medical needle or something Peli would use to check the fluids in the Razor Crest. 

Din took a step closer, keeping his weapon pointed down to show that he acknowledged the cloaked figure (probably) wasn’t armed. He was proud to see his arm was steady even if the rest of him throbbed with restless energy. 

He waited to see if the humanoid would acknowledge his existence. Nothing. The figure took the needle-like instrument and inserted it into a slot in the tank, and continued to ignore Din like he didn’t exist.

Din braced his feet into a ready position and used his helmet to zoom in. The tank closest to Din came up to his waist and was filled with a dark liquid. It was too small for a baca tank…

Wait. It looked like a cloning cylinder, albeit a small one. It was very similar to the full sized ones he’d seen on the Imperial base on Narvarro. Din could see a tiny lump, smaller than his thumb, in the center of the cylinder. 

_“ All I wanted was to study his blood.“_ Gideon’s earlier comment on Grogu echoed in Din’s head. “ _This child is incredibly gifted and blessed with rare properties… ”_

“What the hell are you doing?” Din growled, lifting his blaster directly at the dark figure. 

He was completely ignored. The humanoid continued to draw enough liquid to fill a vial that was attached to the needle in his right hand. It used its left hand to store the filled vial into a pouch on the figure’s belt, revealing the barest glimpse of a slim waist. 

“Hey, I’m talking to you!” Din armed his blaster in a warning. Nothing.

He was definitely about to die right now, but he couldn’t let this creep walk out alive. Not with whatever material (or blood?!) he was collecting. What it was--what if they were--his brain couldn’t complete the horrifying thought.

Din’s finger nudged the trigger--and suddenly his blaster was ripped from hand in a painful twist that probably would have dislocated his wrist if he wasn’t wearing vambraces. The blaster landed in the cloaked figure’s left hand. It didn’t even look up. His blaster was tossed over the cloaked figure’s shoulder like garbage. 

Enraged, Din took a step forward, more weapons primed...and he found himself being forced back to the door frame by invisible hands. It wasn’t a gentle push but he instinctively knew it wasn’t at the figure’s full strength. He was being toyed with and Din was now trembling with rage.

He was about to charge in again when he heard a soft sound directly next to him. 

“Patoo?”

Dank farrik! What is the kid doing here?! 

Din jumped and nearly stepped on Grogu. The child was suddenly, inexplicably right next to his leg, one hand on the door frame, staring directly at the target of Din’s rage. It wasn’t the first time the child completely caught him by surprise, but the speed at which he had just appeared was new. Where the kriff was Dune?!

Finally, movement from the cloaked figure. It looked up, revealing half of a masculine jaw with a dimpled chin, eyes still obscured. Din didn’t dare antagonize the man now, not with Grogu here. 

“Don’t--” Din said, even as he tried to backstep and shield Grogu with his leg. “He’s just a kid--”

“Mwa!” Grogu resisted the nudge, closed his eyes and reached out with his tiny hand. 

Suddenly the hood of the figure flew up as if a sudden wind had appeared. It revealed the full face of the dangerous man.

A face...Din recognized.

Kriffing hell.

“You’re Luke Skywalker!”


	2. 1 Year Ago (9 ABY, Nevarro)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A year ago, Din Djarin was reluctantly sucked into a story about a legendary bounty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic uses the ABY system of time measurement where ABY = After Battle of Yavin. Basically time starts after the events of the first movie of the Original Trilogy, A New Hope. Return of the Jedi occurred in 4 ABY. The Mandalorian is set in 9 ABY but I wanted to make Luke’s disappearance last as long as possible so we’re pretending events during seasons 1-2 take a year until 10 ABY. This story will bounce between the present day and the immediate past in every chapter.

He first heard about Luke Skywalker from Bantha Tit. 

Din kept himself outside of Guild politics and gossip. He had no allegiance or interest in what other bounty hunters said or believed, and he was purposeful in his attempts to avoid casual conversation. Din always carried the secret of the covert with him, so he couldn’t (and shouldn’t) create connections with anyone on the Outside. 

But he’d have to be deaf and blind to miss some things, one of which was the annoying presence of a young upstart bounty hunter with the legal name of Bannam Ylet and the nickname of “Bantha Tit” to literally everyone else. Everyone on Narvarro, including Din, knew Ylet because he was young, loud, ever present, and incredibly, career dangerously, stupid. Everytime Din saw a glimpse of the light haired human he tried to go in the opposite direction because he knew where Ylet was a bar fight or an explosion was sure to follow. 

About a year ago, he was unlucky enough to walk into a “conversation”, if it could be charitably called that, between Tit and Greef Karga.

“By all eleven Hells!” Karga was shouting as Din stuck his head into the cantina. “Forget the Bondman’s Folly! He’s far beyond your skillset.”

Usually, this was Din’s cue to leave, but he was in a hurry. He’d agreed to meet with Karga for a job, and it looked like the Tit was leaving.

“5 million credits!” Crowed Ylet, “Didn’t you hear what I said, old man?! They’ve up the ‘Folly up to 5 million! This is it; this is my chance!”

“Yeah, chance to die, if we’re all lucky,” Karga snarked. “Would you get outta here, my next guy is here.”

The Tit turned to look at Din from the corner. “Hey, it's the Mando! Forget it Karga, this guy here is gonna blow you off after he hears that the ‘Folly is up to 5. Million. Creds!!”

There was a lot of chair scraping sounds as several bar regulars were chased out by Ylet’s happy screaming.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” So now Din was stuck here, fantastic. Din kept his hand on his weapon as he approached Karga’s table.

“The old Folly’s bounty went up again!” Ylet bounced on the tips of his toes. “Dead or alive, it's the same price! They’re desperate, I’m telling you, and I’m going to be the one to catch him!”

“HA!” Someone in the back cackled. 

“For the love of--” Karga looked like he wanted to slam his head into the table in front of him. “Mando, would you tell him how hopelessly outclassed, outgunned, and outwitted he is against the ‘Folly? He refuses to listen to me. Or leave.”

It was going to be one of those afternoons, wasn’t it? 

“Move.” Din said to Ylet, even though he knew it was pretty hopeless.

“Come on, Mando! Mando, Mando, man! A guy like you, the best of the ‘hunters here, you surely have a plan for the Folly, right?” 

“Why would he tell you?” Karga grumbled as he took a drink.

“Mando here thinks he’s going to be rich--”

“I don’t.” 

“--but he’s not because I’m gonna find him--”

“I will have you thrown out again, Tit, if you don’t shut it,” Karga growled.

“And then I’ll be galactic famous. I’ll even throw in a good word for you, Mando, when you’re stuck in the dust.”

“Are you done?”

Ylet thought for a moment. “No. So tell me, where you think the ‘Folly is? I mean, I know, but I want to know if you know, you know?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“He’s talking about the Bondman’s Folly,” Karga muttered through another mouthful of booze. 

So Din had gathered. “What is the Bondman’s Folly?”

The cantina fell silent.

“ARE YOU KIDDING ME!” Ylet screamed. Someone behind him tried to throw a beer glass at them. It landed at Din's feet. “Are you serious right now. Where have you been living, under a rock?”

Din thought for a moment. “Yes.” He heard Karga chuckle.

Bantha Tit was not amused. “No really, you haven’t heard of the Fragg’n Folly?”

“No.”

“The Shadow Mark?”

“No.”

“The Newbie Mistake!” Someone supplied from the back of the room. 

“No.” How long was this going to take before they all left Din alone?

“I heard someone call him “He Who Must Not be Named,” Karga offered.

Ylet snorted. “That is the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Well, it was said in Calamari, I’m not about to try to really say it.”

Ok, enough was enough. “Do you have a job for me or not?”

That wasn’t the right answer for Ylet. “COME ON. We’re talking about the Skywalker job--”

“Ok, keep your voice down, we don’t want to advertise this stupidity to the streets!” Karga looked like he was about to slap the kid.

“--The biggest bounty that ever was! You catch him, and you’ve got it made. He’s Legendary!”

“Never heard of him,” Din shrugged. 

“Are you serious?!”

“That’s because Mando has more than half a brain cell rattling around!” Karga snarked. “Nobody catches Skywalker, nobody’s seen him in years! The bounty is a bondman’s folly. You’re chasing a myth, Bantha Tit.”

“That's not my name!!” Ylet screeched.

“It is to me, now get out of here, or I get Mando to toss you out. You got your assignment, so scram!” Karga got that murderous look in his eye that signaled he was done and for once Ylet seemed to get it.

“...Alright alright.” Ylet dusted imaginary dirt off his bright new looking jacket. “But hey Mando, if you ever decide to wanna really make money, come talk to me. I’ll tell you all about how I’m gonna catch Skywalker.”

“No.”

“Your loss.” 

“Ah kids, what can you do.” Karga said as they watched Ylet leave.

“Why do you keep him around?” Din was genuinely curious.

“I told him the Guild share was 30%” Karga laughed. “I make a decent amount off him.” There was a pause. “You’ve really never heard of the Skywalker job?”

Din just stared at Karga, hoping he could avoid--

Karga took a deep breath.

\--A lecture. Damn.

“The Guild has no active listing for a bounty on Luke Skywalker, not since the Empire was in power,” Karga began. He was using that voice of his, the tone that meant it was story time, and you were going to be stuck listening to it, so strap in. “Even back then, he had the second biggest bounty, even outranking Mon Mothma and Princess Leia Organa!” 

Ok Din knew Mothma was the head of the Rebellion but he’d never heard of the other one. “The Empire is gone.” There was no way Din was getting out of this so he made himself comfortable on the seat across from Karga.

“So is the man. He was--hmm wait a second…”

Din watched as Karga rooted around his pocket until he pulled out a dark silver holopuck, darker than the ones he normally handed out. It looked like an older model. He put it in the middle of the table.

Din tilted his helmeted head at Karga. The older man just shrugged his shoulders. “I knew someone would bring this up. Every time the bounty goes up, it’s all the kids will talk about.”

“I thought there was no official bounty.”

“I’m getting to that.” Nobody could rush Karga when he was on a roll. “So four years ago, Luke Skywalker vanished, right out of the blue. Apparently they made a big deal about this in the Core, and made the Holonet news fodder for months. Of course it would; the man’s considered a hero.”

Greef paused, waiting for Din to make some sort of comment. When he didn’t, Karga shook his head at Din.

“Skywalker blew up the Death Star!” 

Oh.

“Possibly even blew up the second one--”

There was a second Death Star?

“And killed the Emperor himself.”

Yeah right. Din didn’t believe that last one. “So he had a lot of enemies. Makes sense someone would take him out.” Din didn’t understand why Karga was so into this Skywalker character. He sounded like New Republic propaganda to Din, not a real person.

“If someone has killed Skywalker they aren’t fessing up to it. Plus, every so often, there’s a claim of someone spotting him, especially in the Outer Rim and in Imperial remnant areas.” 

“So he’s a traitor?” 

“Possibly, or he’s doing something unsanctioned by the New Republic. Maybe he did all their dirty work, and then they washed their hands of him. Nobody knows. Regardless of the circumstances, word started spreading amongst the guild members about folks that were interested in Skywalker. Dead or alive, nobody was certain which it was. There are multiple offers, everyone claiming a different source for the job, but no pucks, chain code or fobs. Word of mouth jobs only. You know, like the old days.” 

“Then what’s that?” Din nodded at the puck in front of him.

Karga knew he had Din, and now he was delighted. “This isn’t a bounty. It’s a missing person’s case.” He flipped the puck on with a theatrical flourish.

The face that appeared in the holopuck was that of a young human male--much younger and more innocent looking than Din had expected. This was the face of a man who looked more like a farm boy than an Emperor killer. It was a candid image, and the boy was wearing a wide bright smile that seemed to reach into his eyes, making him seem carefree. The image was a good choice since the happy face stood in stark contrast to the bright red letters that spelled out “Missing Adult Human Male” in Basic just underneath. It was a picture designed to promote sympathy, unlike the mugshots and grainy images used in normal bounty pucks. After a moment, the face disappeared, revealing a list of vital statistics. At the very end, there was a financial award listed, far above what Din expected. It wasn’t 5 million of course, but it was still more than any normal ad.

“I started looking into the Skywalker case after I started seeing my guys getting distracted. Needed to scope out the competition, you know? But in this puck here is the only legitimate info I found, or at least the only one I trust. This one is just looking for any information on Skywalker. No need to bring him in, they just want to know if he’s still alive.”

“The source?”

Karga shrugged. “Dunno. It’s posted out of Bespin.”

Bespin? Well, that was random. “Cloud City?”

“You got it. Been active for the last two years. They will pay good money for any substantiated news on Skywalker.”

There weren't a lot of folks that claimed citizenship in Cloud City. That would defeat the purpose of the sanctuary that the place provided. But even if Skywalker wasn’t a Cloud City citizen, having a post out of Bespin meant that whoever was looking for him didn’t care if the tip came from Imp sympathizers or neutrals. 

“What counts as substantiated news?” There must be hundreds of leads submitted, if this award was to be believed, and Skywalker was as important as Karga said.

“Your guess is as good as mine.” There was a pause. “So what do you think?”

Din watched the holo cycle back to the picture of Skywalker, with his big smile and gentle eyes. He was looking at a man who was most likely dead or hiding from something horrible he did that deserved death. A man who everyone was after but with no fob to make it achievable. To Din, it felt not so much like a magical paycheck as it was a giant waste of time.

“Not worth the trouble. Just like the Solo job,” he finally announced. 

Karga laughed. “You’re a sane man, Mando. The galaxy needs more like you. Here, I have something that is more worth your time.” 

Din spent the next few moments reviewing the three pucks that Karga was offering him before accepting them all. He swept them into a pouch and made his way towards the door.

“Mando!” 

Din turned just in time to catch the Skywalker puck that Karga tossed his way.

“Of all the hunters I know, you’re probably the only one lucky enough to get a Skywalker spotting. Take it. It’s easy money, if you ever spot him.” 

Din turned the puck over in his hand once and considered throwing it back. Instead, he found himself tucking it away with the others and walking out of the cantina.

* * *

For some reason that Din never cared to think about, Skywalker’s puck stayed with him, tucked away in the Razor Crest next to his pilot seat. Sometimes, when he was in transit or between jobs or just plain bored, he flipped it open to stare at Skywalker’s image. At first, he did it so he could memorize his face, in the off chance he spotted the man while in the middle of a job. If Skywalker was alive and hiding, it's possible he might be frequenting the same dive bars and outer rim hellholes Din often found himself in. So it made sense to occasionally check the puck so he could refresh his memory. Right?

Din discovered that Skywalker had several scars on the left side of his face that curved around his eye, cheek, and nose, and it gave him a slightly lopsided look. He had no idea how a rebel pilot received wounds like that, but they should have made Skywalker look more dangerous. Instead, they made him look heroic, the perfect model of a war hero. The puck noted his hair was dark blond, eyes blue. Height 1.75 in Imperial Standard, which sounded short, but Din really needed to see Skywalker in person to be able to tell. He’s an amputee. No tattoos but listed as having “extensive scarring”, nonspecific to the location (were they talking about the face then, or was there more?). Last confirmed known location: Dagobah system. There was no plea from family members desperate for his safe return. No mention of his exploits. If Din didn’t have the backstory he would have thought this was just one more casualty in the War; one more ordinary person ripped from his loved ones by sheer bad luck.

Now that Din was aware of Skywalker, he seemed to overhear chatter about the man every time he found himself in a group of bounty hunters (which was still something he tried to avoid at all costs). The unofficial bounty was larger than life, the ultimate ‘get’. The dream all new hunters chase when they are young and stupid. At some point, the bounty went up to 5.2 million. Din figured there was no way anyone was actually paying that out, not in this economy. But it kept the legend alive and drove Guild recruitment numbers to an all time high. It was bad news for most hunters, trying to fend the newbies off legitimate jobs, but Din wasn’t normal. He was the best in Narvarro, and his entire life was dedicated to work. Clients (ok mostly Karga) knew that and trusted him to get the jobs done. Get in, get the mark, get out, get paid. Return to the Covert. Rest. Repeat.

That was his life, until several months later when he met the Kid.

* * *

After Din blew up his life on Navarro, lost the Covert and went on the run with the Kid, he completely forgot about keeping an eye out for Skywalker. He was no longer running in the same circles as the other Hunters and after four years nobody else seemed to care about the man anymore. Or so Din thought.

So he was caught off guard the time he walked into Hanger 3-5 in the spaceport of Mos Eisley, dragging the lost armor of Boba Fett behind him, and saw an image of Skywalker emanating from a holocaster belonging to Peli Motto. 

Peli herself was nowhere to be found. The holocast was being watched by one of her blasted DUM series pit droids. It chittered at Din as he approached and ran away as he made a swipe at it. 

The holocaster was in the middle of broadcasting a news story about Remembrance Day. Din vaguely knew that it was a New Republic holiday, created to memorialize lost soldiers in the Galactic Civil War, but nobody in the Outer Rim cared or followed New Republic calendars. Even Life Day was barely a thing out on the Rim. The image used for Skywalker was different from the one Din had memorized on the Razor Crest. It was a formal military portrait with Skywalker in a stiff unsmiling posture, in full uniform. 

“Alderaan Sector Senator Leia Organa was on hand at today’s event to place the ceremonial wreath in front of the MIA/POW memorial.”

The holo shifted to show an image with a woman dressed in Core finery; long hair twisted up into a fancy braid. She was holding a small child in one arm and a beautiful wreath of flowers in the other.

“The Senator made no comment to the assembled crowd, defying predictions that she would use the time to plead for information on General Luke Skywalker. The Senator’s continued silence on the missing General, despite their long history of close friendship during the War, has prompted many to conclude that the New Republic has unofficially declared the Skywalker case closed. A small coalition of veterans from the famed Rogue Group starfighter squadron has once again opened up a freedom of information petition in an attempt to determine Skywalker’s legal military status. This in response to the persistent rumor that Skywalker’s status is currently listed as active classified, despite the fact that the famed General has not been seen in public for the last four years--”

“That you, Mando?” Peli poked her head into the room. “One of the droids gave me a heads up you were back. Ugh, Skywalker again? I swear the galaxy is obsessed with that guy.”

“Seems so.” Din turned the holocaster off and attempted to hoist the beskar armor up on his shoulders again.

“The droids are obsessed with the guy too,” Peli continued from the doorframe. “Just like everyone on this damn rock.”

Really, that was a surprise. “With Skywalker?”

“He was from Tatootine,” Peli replied. “From around Anchorhead, or so I hear. He was probably one of the only Rebels that was popular around here. Plus I hear he’s the one who blew up Jabba the Hutt a few years back. But I don’t follow celebrity gossip. Who cares who did the fatso in? He’s dead and the planet is a better place.” Peli waved her arms in a grand gesture. “I don’t follow that stuff...because he’s probably dead right?” Peli waggled her eyebrows at Din. “You think Skywalker is dead, Mando?”

“Peli.” Din groaned. The armor was heavy, and he was exhausted.

“I don’t really care but I do have 500 credits on Skywalker being alive, living in Canto Bight with some tight young thing and living his best life. He probably got sick of doing all that Republic stuff, I know I would.”

“Peli!”

“Ok ok, geez! Hey you need a hand with all that…what?! You finally found a Mandalorian and you killed him?”

“He’s not dead and he wasn’t Mandalorian,” Din sighed. 

“If you say so. Is that krayt dragon meat? It better not have any maggots on it and you better be sharing because I have some good news for you. Would you believe I ran into someone else who’s seen a Mando recently?”

The topic was dropped as Peli moved on, attempting to convince Din to join her sabacc game in the nearby cantina. 

* * *

Skywalker was still on his mind as they left Tatooine and headed towards Trask, and this meant he immediately noticed when Skywalker’s puck disappeared from its usual spot near his seat in the cockpit.

“Spit it out,” he told the kid sternly, just as the child was about to swallow the puck whole. 

“Bleeeep.” The puck slithered out of the Kid’s mouth, and landed with a wet plop in his tiny claws. Before Din could grab it, the Kid triggered the puck and Skywalker’s face appeared once more.

Din sighed. 

“Mmmmwah?” The Kid poked at the image of Skywalker and ran his right claw over his face again and again. Heh. It was kinda cute. 

“It’s not a toy,” Din said as he reached over to shut the wet puck off. 

“Brrrrr?” Said the Kid. The baby reached out his hands for the puck and whined. “Mweaaa!!” Oh, for the love of--Din really wasn’t in the mood for one of the kid’s tantrums. Din looked over his shoulder to see if his new amphibian passenger was nearby. Nope. She was still preoccupied down below. 

“Not a toy and not a job.” For some crazy reason, Din felt the need to explain himself. “He’s a...a missing person. Somebody wants to find him so I keep this around to remind me what he looks like just in case I ever see him.”

“Hmmm,” the Kid said, as if he approved of this. “Mwee?” But he still kept his hands outstretched for the puck.

Din sighed. “Nevermind, I don’t even know why I keep this thing, the guy is probably…” Din trailed off, suddenly realizing he was approaching a sad topic. “If you promise not to eat it, you can play with it.” At the worst the Kid might break it, and well...Din didn’t need the damn thing anyways. 

But the Kid didn’t try to eat it. He eagerly accepted the puck from Din and immediately triggered the holo. The two of them watched Skywalker rotate in the dark, as they made their agonizingly slow progress to Trask.

It had never occurred to Din to look on the holonet for information on Skywalker. All of his information on the man was what was on the puck. He’d never let himself think about who Luke Skywalker might be in real life. A general, apparently. One missed by other veterans. Former Tatooine resident, potentially a Hutt killer (on top of that Emperor stuff. Geez, was this guy the galaxy’s biggest mass murderer or what?). A celebrity in his own right, unrelated to his mega bounty. Galactic hero, revolutionary, Hutt killing, sunny smiling Luke Skywalker.

Din never considered the identity of the person looking for Skywalker on Bespin, in the same way he used to never dwell on the murky origins of his jobs or the futures of his marks once they passed from his hands. But whoever it was, It certainly wasn’t the stuffy Senator he’d seen in the holocast. She looked exactly how Din imagined a Republic Senator would act, cold and untouchable. 

However, a tiny part of him wondered if the dark haired child in the Senator’s arms was Skywalker’s. After all, the broadcast said the Senator was Skywalker’s close friend, so it was possible...but ugh, that wasn’t such a good thought. It made Din feel uneasy for some reason. Also, what kind of hero abandons their own son? No, just look at him; that face doesn’t just get up and leave...or does he...

“Bweee?” Din came back to himself as he felt tiny claws tap on his armor. Right. “Bedtime,” he announced. He got up and picked up the Kid, shifting the baby to one arm as his other hand wiped the still moist puck on the jump seat and shoved it in his belt. If the baby was still interested tomorrow, he could keep the puck with him. 

Because really, what was the chance he was gonna find Skywalker now after all this time?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bantha Tit is entirely my creation and you can have him.


	3. Five Years Ago (5 ABY, Chandrila)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 5 years ago, Luke Skywalker became an Uncle. The Force wasn’t thrilled about that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SW canon notes: This fic assumes Shattered Empire and most of the events of Aftermath:Empire’s End occur as canon but then goes AU for the Solos at the very end of Aftermath and moves Ben’s birth up a few weeks. I’m sorry if I get any details wrong but I’ve tried to avoid too many references to things outside of the movies & The Mandalorian for everyone’s sanity. The reason Luke missed Ben’s birth was left unsaid in canon so I made up a reason. There is a nod to one of my favorite characters from the Legends canon here, as well as a blink and you’ll miss it reference to the best films Lucasfilm ever created, the 1985 made for tv movie, "Ewoks: The Battle for Endor" (loool). If anyone catches it I will be amazed. 
> 
> Also I can spell Mandalorian correctly, I swear (sorry I went and edited chapter 2!).

Luke hadn't meant to miss the birth of his nephew. For months it loomed over him, this life-changing event that he awaited with nervous tension and the tiniest bit of terror. A baby! His twin sister was having a baby. A baby boy! A little tiny human, half Leia, and half Han. He had never imagined Han as a father, yet he was weirdly excited for his best friend. Even the tiniest bit jealous. To have a baby now, after all they've been through...it was the beginning of something new, something normal.

On top of that, they were finally approaching the end of the War with the remaining Imperial troops surrendering at Jakku and Mon Mothma poised to sign the treaty of surrender--sorry the "Galactic Concordance" Leia kept reminding him that language was important--- with the leaders of the Empire. It was finally, FINALLY, over. Kashyyyk was free, Naboo was safe, and Leia was...mostly trained as a Jedi. She was trained enough to protect herself and her unborn son (and Luke was convinced that once Leia was given a chance to relax with her new family finally, she'd agree to finish her training). 

So, of course he was going to be there on the big day. Leia had made him her birth partner, which meant he was the one being subjected to reading Leia's birth plan, and memorizing her medical directives. He was supposed to be in charge of getting her to the medical center, and most importantly of all; he was supposed to keep Han sober and planetside during the birth. 

Han had frowned when this directive was issued from Leia. 

_"What father in their right mind is sober at a time like--"_

_"HAN!"_

_"You can put the plant down, your worshipfulness, I was just joking!"_

_"She can read minds now, Han."_

_"No, she can't! That's not a thing!"_

_"..."_

_"Luke? You would have told me if mind-reading was a Jedi thing, right?"_

In Luke's defense, he hadn't expected his mission to Gatalenta to take as long as it did. It was supposed to be a short visit to see if the Counsel of Mothers were willing to allow him passage to begin his research into the Jedi order. Gatalenta was peaceful and located in Core; he was traveling alone and unannounced. It was just typical Skywalker luck that he ran into a natural disaster and had to save an entire village from rampaging storm waters and he lost a day's travel due to Gatalentian beetles eating his power line. Not his fault! Also, it was not his fault that his nephew decided to come early--so early that when Luke's sides started to burn and his back began to throb, he dismissed it as muscle fatigue after days spent lifting fallen trees off buildings and small children out of house fires. He paused several times to release the pain into the Force and kept moving.

But the pain quickly returned...and intensified, eventually turning from uncomfortable burns into sharp cramps, then waves of electricity, bouncing up and down his spine in a way that reminded him of ozone and darkness. Then...his com beeped.

**"LUKE SKYWALKER YOU NERF BRAINED JEDI!"**

Oh no. He was going to be killed for this. 

He missed Ben's birth by eight hours, and the entirety of his manic flight home was spent in a very non-Jedi-like daze of pain (from Leia), rage (...also Leia), and terror (from well...himself). He didn't sleep for 48 hours; not a record, but it stressed his already taxed stamina. 

This meant when he finally made it to the medical center and burst into the maternity ward looking less like a Jedi Knight and more like a disheveled protagonist from a Corellian soap opera, he missed picking up on the subtle warning from the Force that there was something...off. Just at the edges of Leia's medical suite, a presence not meant to be there. Nobody was in any state of mind to notice. Luke was exhausted. Leia was beyond exhausted and riding high on post-birth hormones. Han was not drunk but he acted like it; he existed in an overwhelmed new father stupor of giddy tension. Chewbacca was off-world on Kashyyyk. And Ben…

Well, Ben was perfect.

Ben was 6.8 standard units of perfectly formed, bright red screaming baby. Ten toes, ten fingers, two dark slivers of brown eyes, and one sad lump of black hair on the top of his tiny head. Luke was in love instantly with his tiny toes, his impossibly small nails. His disturbingly wonderful newborn baby smell. 

_"Stop sniffing my son, Skywalker."_

Ben was so small! Ben was fragile and fit in the crook of Luke's arm like he always existed there. Ben looked disturbingly like a tiny mirror of Han, but he had his mother's lungs and rage when he screamed. He grunted when he ate like Han.

_"HEY!"_

Noisy! He's so noisy! For a being that does nothing but eat, sleep, and crap, he made so much noise with his grunts and whistles and lip smacks. His presence in the Force was equally loud. His light was blinding and popped like fireworks, sizzled like a lightsaber. When he was awake, Ben demanded attention, his Force sensitivity undeniable. Had there been more than one (and a half) Jedi alive in the galaxy, they would have been alerted to his presence the moment he was born. 

Ben was everything Luke had gleefully expected and more.

So why did Luke still carry tension in his chest every time he held Ben? Perhaps Luke was picking up Leia and Han's new parent nerves?

Why did something flicker in the back of his mind, a nagging sense of ...wrong?

* * *

Luke tried to make up for missing Ben's birth by doubling down on his Uncle duties. The day they were discharged, he followed Leia and Han home and camped in one of their many guest rooms. That first week he made breakfasts and bad caf, then watched as Leia threw out his caf and made non-caffeinated tea instead. He cleaned spit up, found missing impossibly tiny socks under couches, and held Ben so Leia could take a shower in peace and Han could sneak away and reconsider his life choices. When she was finished, Luke passed Ben back and fetched Han, and they watched so many bad Corellian holoshows that Luke then reconsidered his life choices. He changed diapers--so many diapers--and discovered that while newborn poop didn't smell as bad as he expected, it was copious, and it stained. Everything.

It was gross. It was domestic. It was boring. It was amazing.

The best part happened over several days, late at night, after everyone was asleep. Luke didn't need a baby monitor to tell when Ben was awake, and there were several nights in a row where he floated the child from his bassinet before he truly began to cry and wake his parents. Luke rocked Ben slowly, curling into his tiny warmth and moving them together in an instinctive tilt and turn that kept the newborn content. Sometimes he even fed him as they stood staring at the city lights that glowed just outside the high-rise apartment window. Ben liked to drink his milk in big, greedy glups, all the while staring at his uncle with his tiny hands clenched shut. Ben's dark eyes seemed to look at Luke with complete trust. 

Those nights were ones that would stay with Luke for years as some of the most tender and happiest moments of his life. Holding such a fragile, precious child in the dead of night, carrying the sole focus of this new being's attention, was like nothing Luke had ever experienced. He wanted more of this, even though it was stressful, even though there was always some tension between Han and Leia now. Even though the baby couldn't even smile yet and was mostly a loud lump of a being. In those quiet moments Luke swore he would do anything for this boy.

But like so much of his adult life, these few precious moments didn't last.

* * *

The nightmares began a month after Ben's birth. They started off as vague, ill remembered snippets that left Luke confused and unrested.

"I thought it was the new parents that are supposed to be sleep-deprived," Lando smirked at Luke from his seat next to Han. "You're not allowing this scoundrel to avoid fatherhood, are you Luke, old buddy?" 

Luke blinked at the odd sight of Lando Calrissian sitting in his usual finery, in Leia and Han's beautiful and meticulously decorated living space, next to a defeated Han, who was still in his spit-covered nightclothes. Luke gave out a massive yawn and leaned against the doorframe that led to the living area. "Wha--oh. Sorry, Lando. Good morning. I just had the weirdest dream--"

"Ah, must have been quite the looker if she caused you to lose sleep. Was she beautiful?"

What? "Not that kind of dream." Luke wasn't sure what kind of dream it was. He only half-remembered it. Darkness. He was inside of a dark small room, holding his lightsaber over...something. The green glow wasn't enough to make out the threat in front of him…

Lando quirked an eyebrow. "Was he beautiful?"

Now Luke was turning red. "Still not that kind of dream."

Lando smirked. "Ah but, you are seeing someone, aren't you? You people never tell me anything, and now my heart is broken."

Luke sighed. "Still single and no, still not sleeping with you, Lando." Tempting as the handsome man was, Lando was a mess, and they both knew it.

Lando mined a blow to his chest.

"He's got standards. Speaking of which, why are you here," Han groaned over a cup of caf, his head low in his hands. "I know you don't like kids."

"Now who's spreading rumors," Lando sniffed. "I love kids. Kids love me."

"So you wouldn't mind taking a shift while I go somewhere far, far away?"

"Only if you take me with you." Leia appeared in the room immaculately dressed, giving Lando a run for his credits. Luke had expected her to take a similar approach to hygiene as Han during this time, but really, he should have known his sister better. She had Ben scooped under one arm and a holopad in the other. "I have a holo-call with Amilyn Holdo in ten minutes." She marched over to Lando. "Did you wash your hands?"

"Ahh…" Lando blinked. "Yes?"

"Arms." Before Luke could even move, Ben was in Lando's arms, and Leia was adjusting the top of her gown. 

"Geez, Leia!" Han yelped. "Lando, it's a baby, not a sabacc hand!"

"Woah woah, why would you--this isn't--he's--wait," Lando stammered, all of his cool gone." Help?"

"The milk is on the counter, he has a fresh diaper, and kids love you, you'll be fine." Leia continued her forward march relentlessly. "But I advise you to remove that cloak before it's too late."

She paused as she reached Luke, who was still leaning against the door frame. "Are you ok?" She asked quietly, one hand going to his shoulder.

Luke nodded. "I had the weirdest dream," he repeated. "But I don't remember much."

"Was it about Ben?"

Luke frowned. "No, I don't...I don't think so? Why?"

Leia shrugged. "I heard you call out his name last night. I thought you were trying to warn us because he was up, but when I looked over at the baby, he was out like a light."

That was strange. "I don't remember that," he said slowly. "It wasn't...that kind of dream." 

That was the third time he was saying that. What kind of dream was it then?

"Maybe you were dreaming about Obi-Wan. We've been refreshingly absent of the dead lately." 

He winced. "Leia."

Her face softened. "You should try to take a nap this afternoon."

"I could tell you the same thing."

"No time." Leia squeezed his shoulder and was on the move again. "We're close Luke. Just working out the final details, and then this War will be over for good." Luke was slightly terrified by the manic glean in his sister's eyes but nodded anyway.

Just then, Ben let out a loud squawk.

"That's my cue to leave." One last squeeze on his shoulder, and Leia was off again. "You break him, I break you, Lando."

"Seriously, help!" 

Ben was really beginning to howl now. He was hungry, and his needs pulsed in the Force like a light. Luke shook his head and went to go save Lando. The dream was forgotten.

Until the next week, where he had another unsettling, mostly forgotten dream. Two week later, there was another one. Then another, a week apart. Another one five days later. 

Then, again and again.

* * *

_He's running through a dark forest; the path barely lit before him. He can feel the weight of a long robe on his back and heavy boots on his feet, but he can't hear himself run. He's not lost. He knows where he's going. This planet is his home; he's lived here longer than anywhere else in the galaxy. Yet for all its familiarity, he's not going fast enough._

_It's here. The Darkness is here, on this planet, waiting for him. He feels himself use the Force to run at impossible speeds, but it's not enough._

_He hears--no feels--the screams of the children. Feels a deep agony in his chest as one by one their lights blink out in the Force. He's too late--it's happening all over again. He wants to scream, but he doesn't dare waste his breath. Out in the darkness he sees the glow of a rampaging fire ahead of him, but he's still too far away to feel its heat, to know what he's running towards…_

_A shadow suddenly slams into him, and he goes flying. His lightsaber is knocked out of his hand, and he hits the ground in a brutal collapse. He gasps--and sees nothing but a familiar red glow--_

_\--Then suddenly, he's surrounded by fire. There are a dozen little huts on fire, and he's on his knees, tears streaming from his eyes. The smoke covers everything, and he can't breathe._

_"There's too many of them, Master Skywalker!" He hears a small child whisper. "What are we going to do?!"_

**No. This isn't happening. This isn't real.**

_The thought slams into him suddenly; a sudden fierce surge of emotion that says all of this is impossible. Impossible because--because--argh no!_

_He yells and curls his arms around his knees. 'This isn't happening!' He tells himself. 'This isn't--'_

_The snap-hiss of a lightsaber ignites right next to his ears. Before he can make a move he feels it pierce his neck, pure agony pouring down his spine--_

_\--from the fire that consumes his legs, destroying his arms. For one breath-stealing moment, he feels agony he's never known before, and it grows to consume the top of his head, burning away his hair._

_"I hate you!" He screams at Han, who is on the high ground in front of him, staring at him with tears on his face. The heat from the lava that is consuming Luke obscures Han, makes him appear like he's disappearing and reappearing in front of him._

_No. Wait. That's not Han. Han doesn't have a lightsaber, Han doesn't dress like a Jedi._

**"Luke! This isn't happening. It's a dream. It isn't real."**

_"Uncle Luke?"_

_His nephew is reaching for him, pulling him onto a narrow path that spans a giant open abyss. Ben has tears in his eyes even as he runs Luke through with a bright red lightsaber. Luke just nods as he falls to his knees. He deserves this because he couldn't stop his nephew from falling. This is his destiny, to die by his nephew's hand. He loses his balance and topples over into the abyss._

_Even as he falls, he feels Alderaan explode again in his head._

Then Luke landed on the floor of his own room on Chandrila, his legs still partially tangled in his bed linens. His throat was raw, his eyes were burning, and snot was streaming from his nose in a gooey mess. He groaned and let his face plant into the carpet, too exhausted to try and move.

"Oh Luke." 

Leia moved swiftly from the door of his room down to help untangle his legs. "I'm so sorry! I came over as soon as I felt it start." He felt her warm hand move to touch his face.

Luke swallowed a sob, which made his breath come out in a hitched hiccup. "D-don't."

Leia hesitated, then rejected his plea and used her palm to wipe the snot from his nose. "I've touched worse." 

The maternal touch made Luke feel like he's suddenly five years old again, in his old room on Tatooine, with Auntie Beru cuddling him after a nightmare. The sudden fierce memory of love and loss made Luke gag.

Leia jerked back, and Luke regretted the loss of contact even though it just made him physically ill. It's such an emotional whiplash that it spilled into Leia, causing her to flinch. "Sorry!" 

"Sorry." Luke echoed. "Argh!" He smashed his face into the floor again. He's. So. Tired.

Leia produced one of Ben's spit-up rags from the pocket of her silk robe and used it to clean her hand. Then she moved from her kneeling position to sit cross-legged on Luke's floor. They said nothing for a long time. Luke continued to sniffle into the carpet rather than suspend the effort to get up.

Finally, after what felt like ages, Leia sighed and asked the question Luke had been dreading.

"Do you remember anything this time?"

Luke briefly considered biting a hole through the carpet to escape, then dismissed it as too much effort. He lifted his face.

"Running. Screaming. Fire." He paused as he struggled to bring the mostly faded images to the front of his mind. "A lot of fire this time. Nothing useful." Unlike his visions of Cloud City years ago, he couldn't recall much beyond emotions. Terror, agony. 

Loss.

"Did you see him?"

Yes. "I don't--"

"Don't lie." Leia's voice sounded dull with carefully held in pain. "I know you saw him."

Then why ask? For a moment, Luke felt intense anger bubble up out of the exhaustion that was practically bleeding out of him. But he caught it and took a deep breath, centering himself until it became a dull throb. This wasn't Leia's fault, and he couldn't blame her, not one bit.

"I think I saw Han this time," Luke said instead. Had it been Han? 

The only thing he saw clearly was an adult face he'd never seen before but one he knew instinctively. 

Ben. All grown up. In deep pain and possessing breathtaking hatred for Luke.

"I heard you, again. Telling me it was a dream." Luke said, desperate to move on. 

Both of them referred to the nightmares as dreams. By unspoken agreement, Luke refused to call them visions to Leia's face, as if denying the word could also reject the dark implications. Even when Leia had her own hazy vision of her son, the one that caused her to stop her Jedi training, she had refused to call it a vision. They were images and "gut feelings". Even now, Luke suspected Leia hadn't told her everything about what she saw that night, a year ago.

"Did it help?" Leia asked. 

"I think so, yes," Luke replied. It was so hard to remember. "Did you pick up anything new?"

"The same as always," Leia replied. She stood up and slowly moved to Luke, offering her hand towards him. Luke glared at her hand as if it had slapped him before he groaned and let himself be pulled into a standing hug. It was light at first, but Luke deepened it, tucking his sibling into his chest and resting his chin on her head. 

"You were so cold," Leia whispered. "It reminded me of when you disappeared on Hoth." 

Every time Luke had a nightmare about Ben, his Force presence dimmed, turning cold. It was the best way for Leia to describe it to him and Han. She could send thoughts to Luke, and some of them could make their way into the dreamscape, but she couldn't feel anything in return. The nightmares were impenetrable. 

"I'm sorry," Luke whispered.

"This isn't your fault," Leia replied. "We're going to figure this out. You believe that, right?" 

"Yes," Luke breathed. Of course. They had to, even if that meant Luke was going to search every inch of the galaxy, every lost and crumbling Jedi temple for an answer. He's not going to let anything happen to Ben. Ever. 

Leia lifted her head, searched Luke's face, and, having seen his resolve there, relaxed again. "I really wish you'd move back in with us."

"It's not right," he replied. "It's too hard on the baby, and you've just gotten him sleeping longer at night." Luke had pushed Han and Leia to move back, figuring it was better to scream in his own apartment and wake his neighbors (who put up with him because he was famous) rather than wake the household night after night. They were close enough that the distance really didn't matter, but it didn't stop Leia from wanting him close to her. 

"You're still going with me to his 5-month checkup, right?" Leia asked, changing the subject for both of their benefits. 

"As long as you don't change the time a--again." The end of Luke's sentence was punctuated with a yawn. What little energy he had left was now gone, and he swayed on his feet. 

"I'll try not to have another diplomatic crisis this time." Leia pulled out of their hug and gently guided Luke back onto his bed. "Rest now. Do you need anything? Water?" 

Luke was already closing his eyes and willing his body to absorb into his pillow. "No thanks, "he said, although it came out as a muffled "Noanks." 

He felt Leia climb into the bed next to him and curl around him, her arms going around his chest in a now familiar habit. She'd stay with Luke until she felt her son begin to wake, then make the trek back to her own apartment to feed Ben, wait for the nanny to show up, wake Han and begin her workday. It was scary how quickly this had become a routine and how much Luke needed her now.

She was doing so much for Luke, even though she was being pulled in a thousand other directions. Even though it was causing more fractures in her tumultuous relationship with Han. Han was doing his best to understand what was happening to his best friend, but it was already too much, on top of ending a war, and raising a baby. None of them were coping well.

Luke should send Leia back home and deal with this himself. Mediate more or even start seeing the mind healer that everyone seemed to insist he needed. He really should. He selfishly wanted the bits of his sister that she kept giving away, and he knows he shouldn't--he can't--keep letting this happen.

For both of their sakes, he needs to let go.

* * *

In the end, it's once again Ben that is the breaking point, the necessary catalyst to launch Luke from his sister's orbit. It's Ben and his small size and disappointing weight on the doctor's scale, his lack of progress according to galactic human standards.

"Is he eating solids yet?" Ben's doctor asked as he gazed dispassionately into the child's screaming mouth. Luke couldn't remember the doctor's name--in his defense, he was Ben's third. Leia had some...disagreements, with the last two. The baby was nearly purple with outrage in Leia's trembling arms, and they hadn't even gotten to his immunizations yet.

"We've tried. He hasn't really taken to any of the--oh Ben, its ok sweetie shhhh---ah….any of the things we've tried. Sweetie, it's ok!"

"We've tried mashed Kajaka root, zuchii, oi-oi, starblasts, snowberries and tried supplementing with bantha milk and moof-mix just like you told us to the last time." Luke tried not to sound defensive but his sleep deprivation, Ben's screams and the disproving look of the doctor wasn't helping him. "Yes, he's a bit picky on the solid food but he's drinking the moof-mix, 1 o-unit three times a day. The last time we were here, you said we didn't have to worry about solids until he was six months old."

"And that is normally true," said the doctor, "but Mr. Skywalker, your son--"

"Er, I'm not his--."

"Right--sorry. Force of habit." The doctor said with a frown. Luke and Leia were still keeping their sibling relationship a secret to all but Han, Chewie ...and Mon Mothma (Leia insisted). But because of their high profile status, nobody inquired as to why Luke was included in all of Ben's care. Or at least, they didn't do it in earshot of the twins.

"Ben is still in the lower percentiles on the galactic growth charts," the doctor continued. "There is also the issue of what you checked off here...the frequent crying?"

"Constant crying. Always screaming unless he's eating or being held by someone," Luke groaned. "He's just always upset, but we've kept the life monitor on him, and everything always appears in the green."

The constant crying was another source of anxiety in the household. Even Chewbacca was reluctant to visit, the high-pitched crying was physically painful on the Wookiee's ears.

The doctor nodded in agreement. "If there were any concerns, the life monitor would alert our staff. Standard procedure. He is healthy, according to our sensors. But he is still very small." 

"Could it just be genetic?" Leia asked. 

"Perhaps." The doctor sighed. "If I may be blunt, Mrs. Organa Solo, you and Mr. Skywalker look exhausted. Has there been a lot of stress at home lately?"

Luke and Leia just looked at each other while Ben continued to sing the song of their people at the top of his lungs.

"Hmm, yes, stupid question, I apologize." The doctor said. "I just bring it up because babies are very sensitive and can pick up on the emotions of their caregivers. Too much stress has a severe impact on a youngling's development, especially at this age."

Luke wondered if the doctor was reacting more to the exhaustion from Luke and Leia or from the fact that he's here instead of Han. Or maybe he could tell just by looking at Luke that he was a complete disaster of a being right now.

"So he just needs to be less stressed?" Luke bit his lip and refused to look at Leia, even though he could feel her staring. 

"We all need to be less stressed," the doctor said with a shrug. "I'll get a med droid in here to check him over again, to really make sure we can't see any metabolic reason for his slow growth. Increase his moof-fix supplements to 3 o-units--he's still breastfeeding, yes?--Yes then 3 o-units per feeding. I'll schedule a follow-up in two weeks to check his weight." The doctor gave them a smile. "It is a concern, but it's not something to panic about just yet. Babies like Ben just need a little more attention and a nice stable home life. I know the two of you are very important busy people, but it might be a good idea to carve a moment for yourselves. For the baby's sake, hm?"

"Carve time for yourself," Leia growled as they walked out of the medical center. "Oh, of course, it's just that easy, isn't it. Let me just add one more hour to the day and claim that for myself. Of all the self-important, condescending--"

"Leia." Luke pulled his sister aside to a nearby park bench under the shade of a tree. Ben's hover crib followed them obediently, all the while auto rocking the exhausted and now sleeping baby. "Leia...I have to leave."

"What? No, that's not what the doctor meant at all."

"Of course it is, I've caused nothing but stress for you--"

"You're not responsible for my stress!"

"--And Han--"

"--It's not just you, Han and I…we're just having a rough patch--"

"--And I'm not helping," Luke said quietly. "Please. I've been thinking a lot about this." Luke trapped one of Leia's flailing hands beneath his own. "I was already thinking about heading to Dagobah. I've tried meditating here, to help me uncover more of the vis--of the dreams. It's not working because I'm too distracted. I'm a distraction--" he clarified, "To you, Han and Ben. It's not right."

"And it's not right for you to deal with this alone," Leia argued back. 

"That's why I'm thinking Dagobah. Yoda or Be-- Obi-Wan--could help me with the dreams."

"They could just as easily help you out here." Luke could see Leia's jaw clench and felt her thoughts flicker darkly. "If they ever bothered to show up."

"Maybe?" Luke shrugged. "Or maybe not, I don't really know anything about what's going on. It's not like they always appear, maybe it's not the right time yet." He was rambling and really not helping himself. Luke took a deep breath.

"Maybe there's something in Yoda's old home that might have an answer. I never got a chance to look after he died." At the time, it hadn't even occurred to him; he'd been so focused on the revelation about his sister to search his old master's home. He'd always meant to go back, but there hadn't been enough time in the short period since Endor. 

"It would just be for a little while," he added. "It will give everyone a break and time to focus on feeding the little guy. You have Winter to help you out now; you don't need me. You'd have even more help if you allowed Threepio back in the apartment."

"Absolutely not."

"Le-ia. The poor guy doesn't even understand why he's exiled to Mon Mothma's offices!"

Leia narrowed her eyes. "He knows what he did." 

What Threepio had done was rattle off one too many statistics on sudden infant death syndrome in Ben's second month, when the child had just started the first cycle of chronic crying. It was, in Luke's opinion, overkill, but his self-preservation kept him from fighting his sister on it. 

"My point is, you know we never planned for me to stay here this long." It was true; Luke hadn't stayed in one place for this long since he was 19 years old and living a whole other life. This was the right decision, he mentally reassured himself. After all, it was what he always did, rushing off to find the answer, guided by the Force. Such was the fate of the last Jedi.

He could hear Yoda in his head chastising him.

_"Adventure. Excitement. A Jedi craves not these things!"_

He wasn't really; he just needed to do something. Anything.

But Leia looked as troubled as Luke secretly felt deep inside. She stared at him, her dark eyes swimming with unsaid emotion, and suddenly Luke was unsure again.

"I just…" Leia was always such a careful speaker (when she wasn't furious). It was rare to see her reaching for words like this. "I just feel so ...torn about this," she whispered. "I know that you can't find the answers here, but I also feel a sense of danger at the thought of you leaving."

Luke took a quick glance around their surroundings. This wasn't the place to be having such an intimate conversation, but he had to know. "Danger to Ben?" Should he not leave then? Did he need to stay here to protect the baby?

Leia frowned. "Danger to…you," she said slowly. "If you leave." She sighed. "But if you stay…"

"... I'll just keep having nightmares." Luke took another cleansing breath and when he released it, he felt resolved in his decision. "It'll just be for a little while; you'll be too busy to even notice." He went for his 'I'm the almighty Jedi, I got this,' look of peaceful confidence, which never really worked on Leia, but he gave it a go anyway.

"You're going to contact me frequently," Leia ordered, ignoring his attempts at levity. "Not communicating on Skywalker time; you will check-in at a set time like a normal person, got that?"

"Yes, ma'am--ow!" Luke winced as his sister smacked him. "I'll be fine, Leia, trust me." He threw his arm over his sister's shoulder and stared at his nephew with a determined glint in his eyes.

He was going to change Ben's future, no matter what it took.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter goes back to Din. I'm tentatively planning for biweekly updates on Mondays and Fridays since I have a good chunk of this fic drafted already. *fingers crossed*


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